Year 2138.
For twelve long years, there was a game that enjoyed legendary popularity.
The DMMO-RPG Yggdrasil.
It shone in Japanese gaming history, celebrated by countless players. Its immersive virtual world felt almost indistinguishable from reality—a true embodiment of "total reality" gaming.
Players could create their own avatars, customize them endlessly, and choose from a vast array of races. Yet, as time passed, Yggdrasil's glory began to fade. Competing titles—similar in concept, or even more advanced—emerged one after another, and the crisis of Yggdrasil deepened with each passing day.
After twelve years of fame, the legendary game was finally racing toward its twilight.
Where is this place?
White walls, lined with stark black stripes. The chamber was vast, large enough to seat fifty people with space to spare.
At its center stood a great round white table, around which were arranged forty-one crimson chairs. Upon two of them, in a quiet atmosphere, sat a pair of players engaged in conversation.
On the right sat an undead figure shaped like a skeleton. On the left, a dragonborn player.
"It's been a while, Momonga. I didn't expect you to come here at the very end."
"Yes, it has been a long time, Kaiselin."
Their words were little more than formalities. Here, within this lavishly decorated hall, the two had gathered to witness the final moments of Yggdrasil.
"Two years, wasn't it? Time really flies. Honestly, with all the overtime, my sense of time is a mess these days."
The undead Overlord, Momonga, leaned back against his crimson chair, staring into the void. Kaiselin's golden eyes softened with concern.
"Isn't that dangerous for your health?"
"My body? Don't even ask. I'm practically falling apart…"
"Ah, my apologies. I shouldn't have complained so much."
"Don't worry about it. Two years ago, you worked tirelessly as guildmaster. You've more than earned the right."
"…Is that so? Hearing you say that puts me at ease, Kaiselin."
Momonga—the former guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown. Two years earlier, he had still borne the mantle of leadership. But as members gradually left, and with his real-life job draining him, his log-ins dwindled.
And then there was Kaiselin Nova Lucifer, the Demon Dragon Lord. In reality, the sole heir of a massive Japanese conglomerate; a life utterly unlike that of a mere office worker like Momonga.
Different as their worlds were, here in Yggdrasil, they could truly be called close friends.
When Momonga formally stepped down as guildmaster, it was Kaiselin who inherited the title. Though by then, with nearly every member gone, it was little more than a hollow honor.
"Well then, I'll be heading off. I'm exhausted."
"Rest well."
"My apologies again, Kaiselin. You've worked hard. Perhaps we'll meet again in Yggdrasil II… Farewell—"
A console window appeared before him. Momonga pressed the logout button and vanished.
"Haa… so even Momonga is gone now."
As the message flickered across his vision, Kaiselin let the silence wash over him.
"It was fun…"
"Yes. It truly was."
Kaiselin inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. His expression shifted.
"…Pfft. Puhahahahaha!"
"Farewell, Momonga! I shall journey to another world! Ahahaha!"
Kaiselin's laughter boomed.
The Transfer.
In the world of Overlord, it was the dimensional phenomenon that carried one into another reality.
Alone, Kaiselin roared with delight, not moving from his seat.
—Kaiselin's Side—
I was ecstatic.
Finally, that useless fool had logged out, leaving only me behind in Nazarick.
Ten minutes until the transfer.
I rose from my chair, already planning what needed to be done.
"I can't just sit here."
My steps carried me toward the guild weapon, spinning elegantly in the air like a ballerina.
A weapon of black and white, adorned with sigils: seven demons engraved above, seven angels below.
Symbols of the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Heavenly Virtues—an upgraded guild weapon, far surpassing the original.
Lucifer of Pride, Beelzebub of Gluttony, Leviathan of Envy, Satan of Wrath, Asmodeus of Lust, Mammon of Greed, Belphegor of Sloth.
Uriel of Judgment, Raphael of Healing, Raguel of Retribution, Michael of Justice, Sarakael of Sin, Gabriel of Paradise, Remiel of Resurrection.
A weapon bearing them all.
One hundred seventy-three centimeters in length.
The Staff of Seven Devirangel.
Yes, I even named it myself. Damn good name, wasn't it?
Grabbing it without hesitation, I left the room.
"…Time remaining…"
23:52:55.
Seven minutes.
My pace quickened, striding down the vast corridor. Excitement drowned out any lingering regret. The absence of Momonga filled me with exhilaration.
"Ha! Transmigrating into the Overlord world really was the right choice!"
I hummed a cheerful tune, and soon crossed paths with a group of NPC maids. Each bore strange weapons, with a gray-haired butler at their head.
Clad in a black tailcoat, his kind face belied sharp eyes—eyes that could devour anyone whole.
Casting my gaze across them, I spoke.
"Follow me."
My commanding tone left no room for disobedience. They bowed in unison and fell in step behind me.
The time was near.
I would soon ascend as Nazarick's Absolute Ruler.
As the god of another world.
As the complete Dragon Demon God.
Passing the Pleiades' chamber, I reached the Throne Hall's Judgment Gates. The twin doors towered over five meters, one engraved with a goddess, the other with a demon—exquisitely carved.
I pushed them open.
What awaited was the Tenth Floor, the Throne Hall.
The very heart of Nazarick.
Its immense dome could house hundreds. Golden filigree lined the white walls. A chandelier of seven-colored gems cast rainbow light overhead. At the end, beyond a staircase of ten steps, stood a colossal throne carved from crystal, its back towering skyward.
Behind it hung a crimson banner, emblazoned with the crest of Ainz Ooal Gown. Along both walls, forty-one banners—one for each guild member—draped from ceiling to floor.
It was a place built to embody the Absolute.
With the Pleiades left waiting, I strode forward, past memories of guildmates long gone.
There she stood: a woman in white, awaiting the Absolute.
Her flowing black hair contrasted her pristine dress. Golden eyes gleamed with divine beauty. Her posture was graceful, hands folded, like a maiden destined to greet her lord.
Her horns curled elegantly from her temples. Her figure was nothing short of breathtaking—ample curves, a slender waist, and a dress that clung to her form.
A goddess in all but name.
Albedo.
"Truly beautiful."
Such beauty could never exist in reality. Nodding, I seated myself upon the Throne of Kings.
Still, my gaze lingered on her. Black hair shimmering, golden eyes deep as the abyss.
"Yes… I should adjust her settings."
Summoning the console, I scrolled through her configuration.
"…This is ridiculous."
At the end, I read: "Extremely promiscuous."
If left unchanged, she would assault anyone—male or female alike.
Unacceptable.
I rewrote it.
"Deeply, passionately in love with Kaiselin Nova Lucifer."
"Damn it, character limit."
I shortened it.
"Deeply in love with Kaiselin."
Satisfied, I closed the console.
One minute left.
The time had come.
The Dragon Demon God, Kaiselin Nova Lucifer.
God of Dragons, God of Demons.
An Absolute existence.
I reclined arrogantly upon the throne, lips curling into a twisted grin.
"The time has come."
Despair.
Tremble.
Worship.
Submit.
For the Dragon Demon God descends.
Rejoice.
Celebrate.
For you shall witness My advent.